Four Zen monks were meditating in a monastery. All of a sudden the prayer flag on the roof started flapping.
The younger monk came out of his meditation and said: "Flag is flapping"
A more experienced monk said: "Wind is flapping"
A third monk who had been there for more than 20 years said: "Mind is flapping."
The fourth monk who was the eldest said, visibly annoyed: "Mouths are flapping!"

Saturday, March 11, 2006

My Favorite Poem

My Favorite PoemI wanted to leave one more post regarding the poetry. I have copied my favorite poem here called "St. Francis and the Sow" by Galway Kinnell.

The budstands for all things,even those things that don't flower,for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;though sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness,to put a hand on its browof the flowerand retell it in words and in touch it is lovely until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing;as St. Francisput his hand on the creased forehead of the sow, and told her in words and in touch blessings of earth on the sow,and the sow began remembering all down her thick length,from the earthen snout all the way through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail, from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine down through the great broken heartto the blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them:the long, perfect loveliness of sow.